


Conversations on Trains and Libraries

by misura



Category: Silver in the Wood - Emily Tesh
Genre: Background Slash, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21833068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Tobias and Mrs Silver en route.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Conversations on Trains and Libraries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spatz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spatz/gifts).



It was not until Mrs Silver told him, "Mr Finch, with all due respect, do you have some sort of aversion to libraries that I should know about?" that Tobias realized Silver had not told her he could not read.

"Not at all, ma'am," he said. "It's just that I cannot read, so you can see there's little to be found in such a place that would be of any interest to me."

She nodded at that, once and briskly, though Tobias did not let himself think that would be the end of it. Still, "A fair enough explanation, Mr Finch," was all she said next, before changing the subject.

Mrs Silver did not seem to spend a great deal of time in libraries herself.

"Though it's true enough times are changing," she said, and Tobias heard an echo of Silver's voice, saw the expression on his face as he'd unearthed yet another story, "most stories can still be found with the people telling them. Libraries are an excellent place for research otherwise, of course, and I expect that this will become even truer in the future, but for now, a practical folklorist can do just as easily without."

Tobias took this to mean that she would expect him to learn to read at his earliest convenience. He wondered if he would be able to, if one of the effects of the changes that had come over him might be related to his inability to get the hang of letters. It seemed worth finding out, at least.

"I expect you're right," he said.

Mrs Silver nodded, as if this went without saying. "For the moment, if any bookish research is required, I shall be happy to take care of it."

"Thank you," Tobias said, even though he had never asked to become what she had made him. She would not have prevented him from becoming something else, though, he thought, so long as it had been something acceptable, something other than a monster - and that had stopped being possible the moment he'd lost the wood, the moment he'd started being able to cut his hair again with a pair of scissors.

He was quite happy, to be made to feel useful, valuable, even, to help people, still. In some ways, the only thing that had changed was that his movements were no longer as limited as they had been before; he could go anywhere he wished now, and feel as strong as he would ever be.

They did not speak of Silver, as a rule, which suited them both fine, if (Tobias thought) for somewhat different reasons. Tobias had known Silver only briefly, after all - hardly any time at all, in the slow and green time of the wood. He felt he did not have the same right to grief as Mrs Silver had.

"My former husband was a great reader," Mrs Silver told him once.

Tobias nodded. He had been dozing off to the sound of the train. Many of his fellow passengers seemed to find the noise too loud to be able to sleep through it, but Silver felt it constant enough to pass for soothing. It reminded him of the sound of rain, the drip-drip-drip of the great oak afterward.

"I think Henry got it from him. Not a practical bone in his body." Mrs Silver scowled in disapproval. "I loved him well enough, of course - we were married, after all."

Tobias nodded again. He did not imagine anyone would be able to make Mrs Silver do something she did not wish to do - or rarely, at any rate. Her son had been taken from her, after all. She had not been able to do anything against that, and neither had Tobias.

He did not ask what had happened to Silver's father. He guessed it had not been anything Mrs Silver had been able to prevent either, though he imagined that she might feel different about the matter.

"And I suppose it was reassuring, in a way, to go off and leave him in such a place, knowing he'd be happy there, and perfectly safe."

Tobias suspected she was talking about her late husband as well as her son. He found that he could not, quite, imagine the reassurance of leaving the people you loved while you went to risk your life. It was not something he had ever done himself.

"Even so, one does not like to see people waste their lives, of course," Mrs Silver said. "To only spend time indoors, never venturing outside to put into practice what one has learned - I feel that is an unconscionable waste of one's talents."

_You did not make him come to the Hall,_ Tobias wanted to say. _You did not cause him to enter the wood and draw the attention of what dwelled there. You did not stand idly by as Fay took him._

"He must have been an intelligent sort, your husband," he said, feeling he had to say something but wishing neither to pry nor to be the first to broach the subject of what had happened to her son.

"Flattery, Mr Finch? How unlike you." Mrs Silver sniffed, as if to indicate she did not approve.

Tobias could think of nothing to say to that. He had not meant to flatter her, he thought. He had hoped, perhaps, to get her to speak more about Silver's father and Silver himself, to convince her that she bore no blame for what had happened, but then, he did not really want to speak of Silver himself, so he felt he did not have the right to push.

He looked for Silver's name the next time they visited a library, feeling absurdly pleased with himself as he recognized Silver's handwriting. The shape of the letters still gave him some trouble, but knowing it was Silver's name helped: it was as if by staring at the writing, he heard Silver's voice again, introducing himself, and for a moment, Tobias felt overcome.

Children were not permitted in the library, but students were, serious-looking young men, and some of them looked to Tobias to be little more than boys. It was easy enough to imagine Silver as one of them, hunting for butterflies and treasure among the leatherbound volumes and old newspapers.

To track disappearances over a prolonged period of time, newspapers were invaluable, Mrs Silver had assured him, much more reliable than people's memories. Of course, this assumed the newspaper had found its way to the library, and had been considered respectable enough to be collected.

In this particular instance, they were lucky.

Mrs Silver's expression as they left was satisfied, determined to go out into the world and do good, Tobias at her heels, turned invisible thanks to the fact that he carried her luggage.

And then they returned to the Hall, and Silver was there, impossibly changed and yet still the same as Tobias remembered him, still sweet-smiled and mouse-haired and capable of capturing his heart with a look, though he was kinder about it than Fabian had ever been, which Tobias felt was more than he deserved.

Tobias recognized when he was being flirted with now, and did what he might to flirt back, though those particular skills were rusty still, after near four hundred years. Happily, Silver did not seem to mind.

"Will you - " he began to ask, and Tobias thought he saw the shape of things, even though Silver ended up changing his question to, "Do you think I should get a cat of my own? I believe Pearl's still quite devoted to you. Of course, she might not welcome company and I had rather not upset her."

"It's never wise to upset cats," Tobias agreed solemnly. They were like dryads and fairies that way, cats, even if of course they were less destructive, generally speaking.

"She's very fond of you, do you know," Silver said with a shy sideways glance.

Tobias considered it. He had called this place home for a long time. It had changed, naturally, since Silver had ... become what he had become, but not for the worse, not at all.

"And you did say I might need a pet or something to - to help keep track of time," Silver said.

"I'm not sure I'm pleased to be called a 'pet'," Tobias said. "Though I've heard it used between people as a term of endearment, of course," he added, both to tease Silver a little and to take the sting out of his words. He did not feel offended, he thought. Sooner the opposite, if also a bit wary.

He would grow old, now, and a human was not like a cat. Tobias would be travelling. He would live a life of his own. His value to Silver would be limited by those things.

Perhaps it would be better to tell Silver to get himself a cat after all - or to wait for the cat after Pearl. For Silver, it might not seem like all that long a wait.

"You prefer 'darling'? Or 'sweetheart'?" Silver still turned a familiar shade of pink, but then he seemed to shake it off and grinned instead, like a schoolboy who had gotten away with something. "I'm open to any and all suggestions."

"I'll give the matter some thought," Tobias promised. "Meanwhile, I brought you a book I hoped you might like. Collected folktales from some area or another." He had spotted it in a bookshop and bought it on the spot, not even bothering to haggle.

"I - thank you." Silver looked pleased and a little embarrassed.

"I could read it to you, if you'd like," Tobias said, more than a little pleased with how casual he sounded about the matter and the expressions Silver was making.

"Yes," Silver said, after a considerable pause. "I believe I would like that very much."

Tobias nodded and settled down with the book, Pearl leaping on his lap after five minutes, once she was sure he wasn't planning on moving any time soon, and Silver watching him, listening, unmoving like a tree that had taken root.

_Home again at last,_ Tobias thought, and Pearl started to purr as he petted her with his free hand.


End file.
